Victoria grinned at Alex’s bow. She returned his wink with an equally theatrical curtesy—partially to keep the red she felt flooding to her cheeks hidden. “Until the morrow, then, milord.”
Casting him only a quick glance for fear he would notice the coloration she was sure tinted her face, she ducked into the building.
Victoria hesitated at the door to her small, third floor dorm suite. She took a deep breath, then unlocked the door with her keycard.
Inside, a miniature living room with enough space for a couch, mini-fridge, and a few storage bins separated the two doors to the bedrooms on either side. She glanced over as the door of one of the bedrooms opened, her gaze still more on the floor.
“Vic!” the human girl, Amber, greeted, a smile on her pudgy face. A freshmen, like Victoria, the girl bounded out. A second, slightly older woman followed. “I want you to meet Cali. I talked her into taking my extra bed.”
The other girl stepped beside Amber. “Pleasure.” The girl held out a hand to Victoria. Victoria swallowed, then tentatively reached to take the girl’s hand, her gaze shifting to Calli’s tan face.
For a moment, relief washed over her. Calli’s human form did not waver.
She started to return Calli’s smile. Then, the girl’s form flickered, like a glitch in a video game. Whatever enchantment Calli used melted away for Victoria.
Goat-like horns sprouted from Calli’s auburn hair, and her ears were long and folded.
A-a faun! Victoria thought, swallowing back her panic. She took her hand from Calli and looked back to the floor, her hair falling in her face.
“I-I… things to do.” She pointed a thumb toward the opposite door, then rushed inside, leaving Calli and Amber staring after.
For the rest of the night, Victoria refused to leave her room, busying herself with anything she could until she fell asleep with her bedroom door locked.
Later That Night
Nyaira strode through the dark, dank corridor of the rotting warehouse, her high-heeled sandals clicking against the floor and echoing off the graffiti-covered walls. Everything about her screamed designer and wealth. From her lacy off-shoulder top and decadent scarf, to her high-heeled shoes and dark skinny-jeans, she looked as if she belonged on a runway. The contrast between her and the ripped wallpaper and dirt and dust caked onto every surface was almost painful.
The sharp scent of mildew saturated the air. A couple puddles formed in the hall where the ceiling had caved in above, serving as a reminder of the rain that had passed through only hours before. Ahead, light glowed from a window, the illumination barely breaching the layer of grime smeared over the cracked glass.
Nyaira stopped at the door and scowled down at the rusty doorknob. With her lips curled in disgust, she reluctantly gripped the knob with as few fingers as possible and pulled the door open.
A round table took up a good portion of the room’s molding carpet, surrounded by chairs. Battery-powered lanterns hung from a couple rusty chains dangling from the ceiling. Black paint blocked out the large windows on one side, trapping the light inside.
Three men and two women sat in the chairs. One man had the dark skin and pointed ears of a drow, and a second, whose muscles budged against his shirt, leaned precariously in his seat.
A tall man stood at the table with his side facing the door, the high collar of his gray duffel coat pulled up. His attention stayed on the table, where a thin pile of papers sat. He held an air of authority. Of elegance. Of
power. “’Bout time!” the man leaning back in his chair growled, his voice gruff. His eyes shone an eerie yellow, and Nyaira could smell the stench of wet dog wafting from him.
“You’re late,
mon chéri,” the man standing said with a French accent as he picked up one of the pages and put it to the side of the pile. His voice was menacing despite its soft tone. He and one of the women shared the same cold beauty as Nyaira.
“It took me
ages to find the place.” Nyaira brushed her feathery brown hair from her shoulder with the back of her hand as she sashayed toward him. “Really, Luc.” She rubbed a hand over his back seductively as she moved to his other side to stand between him and a seemingly teenage girl with fiery red hair. “
Must you always pick places like this?” She leaned into him, her hand running down his arm.
Luc finally turned his crimson gaze to her, a brow raising irritably. “When it iz your turn to choose where we meet, Nya, you are welcome to pick somewhere more pleasant. Until zen, you are expected to arrive on time. Sit, and we will begin.” He pulled out the empty chair between him and the red-head.
Instead, Nya turned the chair around so its back rested against the table, and knelt on the seat, her body stretching over it. Heat rose from the red-headed girl and the boy beside her who could easily be the girl’s twin, the warmth brushing over Nyaira’s skin.
Luc examined everyone at the table, his eyes lingering a short moment on each supernatural. “Tonight iz zee last time we will meet before our plans commence. In two nights, zis city will feel the might of us supernaturals.”
The werewolf pumped a fist in the air with a boisterous, “Oorah!”
Luc acknowledged the outburst with little more than a slight cock of his head.
“In two nights from now,” Nyaira added, wicked pleasure in her eyes and a dark grin on her lips. She placed her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “Streets around the
entire continent will run red with the blood of humans and traitors alike.” She licked her lips at the thought.
“We’ll take zis final opportunity to review our missions once more, and add any information,” he tapped the pile of papers with one hand, and brandished a pen from a pocket with the other, “zat iz still missing.” Luc pulled out the chair he stood in front of and sat. “Edmond?” Luc placed his pen to the paper and looked to the werewolf, who straightened in his seat and gave a quick salute.
“My pack and I are ready, sir.” Edmond crossed his arms smugly. “We’ll be at Club Ember well before the attacks begin. They’re scheduled to have The Dueling Rockets playing that night. They’re a popular local band on the rise,” he added at the flash of confusion that crossed the drow’s face. “The place’ll be packed more than usual.”
“Zee number of other supernaturals will be unpredictable. Will you ‘ave enough wolves?”
Edmond looked offended. “
More than enough.”
Luc nodded in approval, wrote something down quickly, then looked to the other female vampire. “Nicole?”
“Lake’s Edge Community,” the vampiress purred, her blond locks bouncing in tight curls. “A community of about two hundred near the center of town. Stakeouts have revealed about fifteen supernatural families. My clan and I will have most of them and the humans dead before they know what’s hit them.”
Luc made another note. “Karlor?” His attention turned to the drow.
The drow stood. “My warriors and I will…
occupy the 911 dispatchers and officers at the police stations for as long as possible. By my current calculations, our numbers outweigh theirs by at least five to one in all instances. Our best estimate of the number of supernaturals in each shift for the night in question is between a meager five and ten. We have improved our defensive abilities, and tripled our training for the past three months. Our casualties will likely be few, if any, to their many.”
“Excellent.” Luc made another quick note as Nyaira leaned over as if trying to see what he wrote. “Evain? Nick?” His head turned to the twins.
“Set fire to the city hall.” Nick smirked. “With the council still in it.”
“The city council has a late meeting planned,” Evain specified quietly. “They won’t go out after dark, so will likely be staying the night there. We’ll block off their exits, then burn the place down from the inside.”
Luc’s face darkened, and the seemingly young teenage twins squirmed beneath his gaze. “And zere will be
no mistakes this time.”
“N-no sir.” Nick swallowed hard and looked to the floor.
“Good.” His face softened slightly as he looked to Nyaira. “Nya?”
“I and a few dozen other supernaturals will stir things up at the local college.” She stretched across the chair, the action feline. “Eat a few people, break some necks, all that good ol’ stuff.”
Luc’s eyes narrowed when she did not continue. “I am missing your reports. ‘Ave you done any research? ‘Ow many staff? Students?”
Nyaira smiled at him. “Of course I ‘ave,
mon cœur,” she said with an exaggerated hurt pout, perfectly mimicking his accent. “It’s a surprisingly small college, considering, but most of the kids of the local higher-ups go there. The dorms only hold about five hundred students. The rest live off-campus or school online. A few of the supernaturals working with us have moved into the dorms.” She scowled as she continued. “There are about a hundred supernatural students that we’ve seen,
not on our side.” She snorted. “There could be more. Out of two-hundred staff members, though, there are only about twenty supernaturals. Only a 'wolf janitor remains on campus for a while after-hours. He won't pose any problems."
“Good.” Luc wrote quickly on his piece of paper, then scanned the faces at the table. “Are zere any other concerns anyone wishes to address?”
Various forms of “no” rose around the table.
“Very well.” Luc pulled a large folder from beneath the pile of papers, then stood. “We will reconvene four days from now. I will contact you with the details once it iz safe. The best of luck to you all.”
Luc sat back down and began to place his papers inside the folder with deliberate slowness as the others dispersed.
Nyaira hung back. Once the door closed behind the last to leave, she turned around in the chair, spread her arms on the table behind her, and tilted her head back to look at the ceiling. “I thought they would
never leave.”
“You really
must learn to be punctual,
mon chéri,” Luc looked to her, his voice light and accent thickening slightly with the others gone. He smiled lustfully at her as he stuffed the final paper into the folder and closed it. “Zis is zee zird time you ‘ave kept us waiting.”
“Iz zat so?” Nyaira stood with him, and leaned into his chest. “Per’aps you should give me more of an incentive to arrive on time,
mon cœur.” She traced a light line down his face with a perfectly manicured nail.
“Incentive, you say?” He pulled back slightly, and tapped a finger to his chin as if in contemplation. “Per’aps somezing like… zis?”
He gently lifted her face with a fingertip to her chin, and bent forward. Their lips locked in a passionate kiss until Luc pulled away.
“We shouldn’t linger ‘ere.” He went to where one of the lanterns hung and reached up to unhook it from a chain.
Nyaira leaned provocatively against the table as he placed the first lantern on it then went to the other.
“I saw someone quite interesting today.” She examined her nails.
“Is zat so?” Luc returned to the table and turned one of the lanterns off. “And who might zat be?”
“Alexander Williams.”
A snarl twisted his face. “
Que est-ce que ce traître le besoin?” he spat. He stood in front of Nyaira in an instant, his gaze boring into hers.
“He doesn’t want anything.” She pushed slowly from the table, her every move serpentine. “I only
saw him. He attends the college. He was with this rather timid
human.” She spat the race as if it left a foul taste in her mouth. “I saw them leave together, and that was that. I had other things to worry about.”
Luc snorted, then moved to turn.
“But I was thinking,” Nyaira leaned against him, keeping him from turning away. “If we could get him to join us, that would be one more on our side to help.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “Iz zat zee only reason you wish to speak wiz ‘im?”
Her brows furrowed in a look of innocence. “
Mon coeur appartient à vous, l'amour. My heart will
always belong to you.” She placed a gentle hand on his chest and looked up at him. “Alex was once a friend. He’s strong, and would be useful to us. There’s no other reason.”
Luc stared at her a long moment.
“Very well.” His jaw hardened. “But you are to tell ‘im nozing of our plans unless ‘e proves ‘e iz on our side. Am I clear?”
“I wouldn’t
dream of doing otherwise, Luc.” She leaned back, grabbed the extinguished lantern, linked her arm in his, and together, the two vampires stole out into the night.